Page 50 of Sinning for Santa

She has to be fucking kidding me.

Mistletoe.

Fucking mistletoe is dangling from a red ribbon tied to the fucking light shade over my desk.

How the fuck did Allegra get inside my fucking office? I told her it was a no decoration zone, yet there hangs a fucking mistletoe.

I want to rant, but Melissa’s sobs remind me that she’s here needing my help, so I close the door, ignore the fucking mistletoe, and take a seat behind my desk.

“What’s happened?” I ask Melissa who fiercely tries to slap away her tears, only to have more fall in their place, the ones on the left side of her face run down the thick scar that runs through her left eye and down to her jawline.

“I’ve done everything you said. I don’t use my old social media account. My new one has a fake name and picture. I don’t mentionanything about my past, but…” Her face contorts like she’s in pain, and by the way she clutches at her chest, I suppose she might be. “You told me he was dead.”

My brows hitch. “He is dead. I killed him myself,” I snap, feeling a little fucking insulted.

Her ex boyfriend was a piece of shit gangbanger in the city. There was no method to his madness, only that he was completely fucking nuts, and somehow, Melissa got swept up in his chaos. Fit Nick is what they called him. A gym junkie and pumped up on so many fucking steroids, I bet the fucker couldn’t find his dick. But his real name was Nicholas Ballen, and his brain painted the street by the time I was finished with him.

“But he messaged me. On messenger on my new secret profile. It leads back to his profile.”

Fucking social media.

“Show me,” I bark, and she hurries to stand, sliding her phone over my desk towards me.

Taking it, I read the message.

You little slut. Did you really think you could hide from me?

Keep looking over your shoulder, because I’m coming for you.

Shit. Someone is harassing her. It’s not her ex, but someone that has access to his account, or has made a new dummy account using his identity.

Taking out my phone, I snap a picture of the message, and then go to the profile and snap another picture before handing back her phone.

“Don’t respond and send me screenshots of anything else you get,” I order and she nods. “I’ll have Dom rescan your device to make sure there’s no tracker as well.”

“Thank you.” She nods, standing quickly and offering me a shy smile even though tears are still falling.

“You’re safe here, Melissa. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” I remind her, and she nods quickly, moving towards the door.

“Thank you, Mr Marx.”

I roll my eyes, following her. “How many times do I have to remind you to call me Devon?”

She shrugs. “Miss Barber says it’s disrespectful to use your first name, and that even if you insist we call you by that, we should still refer to you as Mr Marx.”

“Well isn’t Miss Barber a pain in my arse?” I tease, and Melissa’s smile grows wider as she giggles.

Reaching around her, I open the door, and we step out only to come face to face with my blonde goddess whose gaze is dancing between the two of us before it narrows.

Huh.

I know that look.

My little mouse is jealous.

She shouldn’t be, and not just because I’m not attracted to Melissa or the fact there is absolutely nothing going on between us, but because Jaxcen and I aren’t a thing, so whether or not she notices, she’s just shown me her cards.

Try to deny it all you want, little mouse, but you like me.

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